


Tell the Ones that Need to Know

by dugindeep (hotsauce)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU A Christmas Carol, Actors, Angst, F/M, M/M, Non AU, Post-Supernatural (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:42:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep
Summary: It's been five years since Supernatural, since Jared had a steady job and really felt like himself. When he decides to spend the holidays back in Texas, he's ready for the guilt trips, the tension, and feeling vaguely unwelcome. But he's not prepared for the men who show him what life used to be like, what it really is, and how it could be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A J2 retelling of A Christmas Carol. Title and section titles are from The Avett Brothers' "I and Love and You."
> 
> Only minor mentions of Jared/OFCs; small scenes of Jensen/OFMs. Jensen's and Jared's family members do appear.

_**Are you aware the shape I’m in?** _

Jared sighs before he even bothers opening his eyes. He knows he’s coming down home. That the plane is descending and bringing him back to the Texas dirt he’s successfully avoided for the last year and a half.

He keeps his eyes shut, not wanting to see the other passengers, see how they look at him. Or worse, don’t at all. There was a time they’d hush about him, get excited. He doesn’t want to know that it’s officially gone.

It’s been six months since he’s looked for work and more than a year since a paying job. Staying in Los Angeles has become more of a convenience because that’s where his friends are, where his life is …

His hands turn over themselves, index and middle finger spinning around _the_ ring finger, thinking how there were two times before that he’d predicted something there. Sandy and Genevieve. But at the moment there’s guilt at letting Julie go. They’d been together two years, her dropping hints of future and him ignoring every one of them. Until he couldn’t anymore and had to say goodbye. For her sake, for his sake, for everyone around them. It wouldn’t be pretty if he tried to stick it out, even just for the holidays. 

Instead, he decided on Christmas in Texas. 

*

“Wow, The Grinch in real life,” Megan smarts as she slides through the kitchen on her way to the living room.

Jared shoots her a crabby look. “Real funny, punkface.”

“ _That_ was funny when I was 12,” she yells back.

“Haven’t aged a bit, I see.”

“Possible you could not argue?” Sherry asks with a sigh. “It _is_ Christmas.”

“Christmas Eve,” he grunts back.

“JT?” she asks, but it serves more as a warning.

He runs a hand through his hair, biting down on so many barbs and sighs and anything else that would show his annoyance. He’s been in the house for just over twenty-four hours, wishing so badly he hadn’t let his mother guilt him into staying in his old bedroom. It was one of many things that awful holiday movies are made of – get all the family into just one house, no matter how little they get along anymore, and force them to work out their problems. He’s not looking forward to the sentimental pow-wows whatsoever, and that’s pretty much the reason he’s avoided holidays at home for so long. 

His sullen mood continues on through dinner, especially when his mother asks with care and interest, “How’s Julie?”

Jared flips an eyebrow up, stares on his plate before he pops a forkful of turkey and dressing into his mouth. “She’s okay, I guess.”

“Dropped another one, huh?” Megan asks with an unsuccessfully hidden smirk.

He glares at her then looks down on his plate. His voice is low but flat. “Yeah. Broke up last week.”

“Man, thought you were actually gonna marry that one,” Jeff tries to joke, even gives Jared a comforting smile. 

“Thought he was gonna marry Sandy,” Megan says. Then goes as far as to add, “Genevieve, too.”

“Megan,” Sherry admonishes. “Please.”

“We can’t _all_ be perfect, Meg,” Jared shoots back, disregarding his mother’s attempt to handle the conversation. “You and the perfect doctor.”

“Jared!” she nearly shrieks while Jeff asks, “What doctor?”

His eyes are wide and his mouth drops in mockery. “Oh, you didn’t tell them?” He’s ready to spill the few details he knows of her secret rendezvous with the newest addition to the family practice the Padaleckis still frequent.

“Shut yourself right now,” Megan mutters across the table. His smirk is cocky and wide, forcing her to shoot back. “A little bitter you’re washed out before you’re 35, JT?”

Without a second’s thought, he cuts back. “A little jealous I even had the chance?”

“Go jump off a bridge,” she suggests with a tight smile. “No, better yet. Go out in style and nosedive spectacularly in front of the press. Please.”

“Oh, go screw yourself.”

“ _Jared!_ ” his father yells, finally getting into the moment but stopping it with the cut of his voice. 

Jared takes a long breath and looks at the head of the table. The man’s eyes are sharp as he stares right back and Jared wonders how a family dinner got this bad. He’s just one moment from tossing his napkin to his plate and marching off. Instead he takes a healthy gulp of water and says quietly, “Yes, sir.”

*

He sits on the porch swing, slowly dipping back and forth with the push of his toes below him. The neighborhood is lit up on this dark night, greens and reds, Santas and reindeer. There was a time when this was what he liked most about Christmas, seeing so many people getting into the spirit with decorations and cheer. Today, he’s tired and bitter and quiet. 

And dealing with the awkward family banter doesn’t help. Through most of dinner, he wanted to stuff his napkin down Megan’s throat for all the jabs, but he knows he deserves it. They’d been the closest growing up. When he was off in L.A. in the early days and through so much of his time in Vancouver, she was number one on his list. He called and texted and emailed constantly, keeping up with his little sister’s life and boys and school and the other rumblings of life back in Texas. But somewhere along the way, he slowed down, and she complained, and then he all but cut her out. Just so he could avoid the guilt trips. 

“Jared,” his mother says gently as she settles next to him. 

He tips his head back, hitting the wood frame and quietly cursing. She keeps them rocking but doesn’t say anything. The silence makes him antsy, so he prompts her. “Can we not do this?”

“Do what?”

“The ‘what’s gotten into you?’ talk? I can tell you right now that I don’t know, and don’t really care.”

She reaches out for him, ready to touch the back of his head but he’s flinching in a reflex he’s never had before. Her frown is enough to make him realize how wrong that movement was. He doesn’t fix it, just listens to her heavy sigh. “JT, you’ve been so sad.”

He scrubs a hand through his hair, frowns at not just her words but her disappointment. “I’m not sad. Just realistic.”

“Realistically sad?”

“Life ain’t peaches and sunshine every day. I don’t have to smile through every hour anymore. Don’t know why you want me to fake that.”

“Never faked it before.”

He scowls, but it eases into a frown because he’s so drained from dealing with his conflicting emotions. “Maybe I did.”

Sherry reaches for his head again and when he doesn’t move, she gently combs through the back of his hair. “Think I’d know.”

There’s a long sigh and plenty of thoughts. Ones he doesn’t want to say or even acknowledge, but they spill out anyway. “Didn’t think this is where I’d end up.” Her fingers continue on, comforting and lulling him into her maternal security. “I broke up with Julie,” he says miserably.

She works a smile and says lightly, “So, I heard.”

“It was too comfortable. Wasn’t excited to be there, just felt like it was okay.”

Her fingers work slowly, soothingly, as he watches him struggle with the words. “JT, that happens to people all the time. You’re not some specialty case. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

His head nods into her hand, welcoming the moment to just let everything go. As long as he doesn’t look at her, it’ll feel more like going to confession and giving up sins he’s been holding in for so long to a perfect stranger. “I can’t even find a job I wanna do.”

“Patience?”

Jared goes on, tacking more things onto the pile. “And my friends are driving me crazy.”

“Some of them are crazy,” she says with a smile.

“I miss my life.” Her fingers stall and so does his mouth. He closes his eyes against the slow, long sweep of his mother’s palm over his hair, top of the head down to the neck. Then once more. Jared stares out to the street as he feels a dull ache creep into his voice. “I miss having a real job and a place to just _be_ and how easy it was to live in that world.”

Sherry squeezes his neck, using warmth and comfort to ease her question. Because it’s been fairly obvious to everyone around Jared even when he continually denies it. “The show?” 

His eyes slip shut. 

“Living in Vancouver?”

He clears his throat, shakes his head. “Not exactly. But just, something steady, with the same people. It was a … was a really good time.”

“Good memories,” she nods with him. “You were hardly around here, but you kept in touch. Always smilin’.”

He finally looks at her with tired eyes and exhaustion taking over his mind. He snaps, “Was wondering when I’d get the guilt trip.”

“Jared,” she says firmly. “Can’t a mother make her piece?”

“Just sayin’,” he huffs then looks onto the street again. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Her hand slips away and she stands. The voice is quiet but he can hear the press of anger in it. “You called here. You asked to come down, so don’t go on me about guilt trips.”


	2. Chapter 2

_**One foot in and one foot back** _

It’s not easy falling asleep. He feels like the room is mocking him. Half of the space still displays his high school accomplishments in ribbons, trophies, and plaques, while the other half is full of packed boxes and random items his parents don’t have space for in the rest of the house. He stares at the ceiling, at the walls, at the insides of his eyelids. He feels like he’s _just_ asleep when he hears a heavy thump outside the door.

Jared gets up and checks to his left and right but the hallway’s empty. As he turns back to the room, he hears low curses from the floor below so he creeps down the stairs and to the only place he spies light. The kitchen is illuminated by the glow of an open refrigerator door with hands working through the shelves. Jared sighs while rubbing his eyes. “Woke me up, you punk.”

“No leftovers?”

His mouth drops because it’s not his sister’s voice, and it’s not his sister’s head that pops into view to watch him.

“How much you eat, tubby?”

“Tubby?” he parrots back on a whisper. The voice disappears with the head back into the fridge and Jared blurts out madly, “ _Chad_?”

The face appears again, looking more than smug as he chews around a cheese stick. “Oh baby, I love how you say it.”

“What’re you? You’re here? Why’re you here?” 

Chad drops down to the extended counter with an armful of snacks then pulls out his keys, working a travel Swiss army knife open to sliver off pieces of cheese to fold into edges of cracked wheat bread. “I’m here to show you a good time, buddy.” He smirks, lifts an eyebrow, and then happily munches on one of many mini cheese sandwiches. 

“You came all the way here? At ass o’clock, to take me out?”

Chad looks confused for a second then gets sarcastic. “Dude, you think I know what time it is? I don’t function on watches.”

“ _Chad_ ,” he starts, sounding tired yet stern. “You did not fly down to Texas to _take_ me out. We haven’t _gone_ out in over a year.”

He tosses a piece of cheese at Jared’s face. “Yeah, and whose fault is that, pussy?”

Jared stares at the piece of food then nudges it out of his space and into Chad’s. “Guy, we got busy.”

Chad snorts, “Yeah, _you_ got busy. I’m still free to be your second-in-command.” His finger flattens the piece of cheese between them and he sucks it off without delay. Jared stares with slight horror. Chad pops one last mangled cheese sandwich into his mouth and guzzles down a can of soda. He slams the can down, belches, and smiles. “You ready Pada-lucky?”

“We are not going out.”

“Dude, come on,” he argues with hands spread out. “I just wanna show you something, yeah?” He stands and marches off to the front door. 

Jared waits a few seconds, finally taking a moment to consider that Chad is in his mom’s house, in the middle of the night, for no good reason whatsoever. Chad’s up to trouble and Jared’s not certain he wants to join in. Except that Chad starts calling for him and is certain to wake up the whole house if he continues. “Jesus,” Jared says on a hush. He hurries into the living room and finds Chad at the front door, hand on the knob.

“You ready, princess?”

“I’m not going anywhere like this?” he argues, motioning to his sleep pants and worn-out tee.

Chad kicks a pair of running shoes across the way. “C’mon. It’ll be a quick little trip. Be back before morn. You won’t have to bother with anyone else.”

He grumbles, but slides them on and moves closer to Chad. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

There’s a sharp smirk on Chad’s face as he reels the door open and pushes Jared right through.

The second he’s out the door, his mind is blown and his eyes are wide. He’s not on his parents’ front porch, he’s not in Texas, and he’s really not dressed appropriately. Instead, he is stuck in the dark rain of a cemetery … a few moments’ thought and he realizes it’s a fake cemetery, it’s a set, and it’s too convincingly like ones they filmed on for five years of Supernatural. 

Jared can’t move. He just stares as he catches so many people pass that he knew like family, once upon a time. There’s Bob and Eric and Jeremy and the prop girls and PAs and stunt coordinators and lighting and camera guys. “Hey,” he says with a hand out, but a couple PAs walk right by, his hand swiping through them like it’s not there. Jared walks further on set, watching as everyone brushes by him like they don’t know him. Like he’s not someone they worked with for years. He turns into Jeremy rushing at him and then right _through_ him. 

His breathing stops then speeds up and he blinks so many times before he can turn to the crowd and realize this is absolutely not true life. 

He spots Jensen being prepped. One of the hair ladies, Shannon, he thinks, is plucking Jensen’s hair into the best fauxhawk possible considering the rainmaker drenching everything on set. She moves onto Jared, flicking pieces off his forehead …

His eyes burn for the sheer impossibility of this moment. He has to be dreaming, has to be, because right now he’s watching _himself_ in a moment that is distinctly Season 3. They’re _filming_ Season 3. In the cemetery in the rain, when he and Jensen couldn’t focus through the ridiculous downpour, no matter how often everyone begged them to bear down and get the scene done. He sees himself, rocking hips and swaying hands, humming some random song. 

Jensen calls out, “Why don’t you try focusing your memory on your lines?”

Jared replies on a laugh. “I’m good. You stick to _your_ job.”

“I’m doing my job. What’re you doing?”

“Working my inner energy out.”

“Maybe you could work on shutting your mouth?”

“What’re you gonna do if I don’t?” Jared asks on a smile.

With a roll of his eyes, Jensen brings the shotgun to his head and mocks a gunshot, tipping his head to the side. Everyone’s laughing, though Jensen’s hiding his amusement. Until Jared’s giggles take over and Jensen’s smiling, turning to Jared, and in seconds he’s dancing and singing along with him.

Jared looks for Chad, but he’s on his own to watch this memory flash before his eyes. His young eyes, happy and bright, responding to Jensen and winking through jokes as they get ready to work. He watches as they riff so easily, bantering in character while bringing so much believability to their actions and voices. It’s been so long since he’s felt that, the give-and-take and give-some-more. The effortless way he and Jensen worked off each other. He’s felt lost these last few years, trying to find that same connection on other sets. Ones he tries to make like the one he loved for five years, but they never come close.

As action dies down and cut is called, Jared moves to follow Jensen and himself as they head off to the trailers, laughing, patting hands, and just being so typically _them_. But Chad stops him, hand heavy around the elbow and scooting away. 

"What is this?” Jared asks sharply, almost worried. 

“You don’t know your own show when you see it?”

“No, I know … it’s Supernatural, yeah. But. I’m dreaming … but this is,” he trails off while looking around him. The noise is pitch-perfect to the fuss of the show and all the voices are fresh, the colors rich. His words come out quiet, “This can’t be a dream.”

“Nope. It’s the past.”

Jared snorts then sighs. “Obviously, jackass. I know this ain’t the future.”

“Nah, someone else does that.”

He stares for a second. “What?”

Chad tugs on the elbow again and walks him away. “You ready for your next stop?”

Jared yanks his arm back and stalls. “Wait, what do you mean another stop?”

“C’mon, man. We ain’t got all night.” Chad walks close, pushes at Jared’s back. “Three stops each. I gotta get two more in. Vamanos!” He shoves hard to force Jared out a nearby set door and they’re tumbling into a conference room. Bright lights and creamy colors contrasting with the dark cemetery they just left. 

A tiny noise reverberates through the room as he tries to see beyond a sea of heads, all buzzing with excitement. Then a voice comes through the speaker system. “Now that you live together, who takes longer to get ready in the morning?”

Jensen’s voice is flat as can be, but picking up as he says, “Every day ... I wait. I could write a book. 'Waiting on Jared'.”

Jared moves around the few gathered standing room only participants and finds the source of attention in time to hear himself say, “I take longer … but because … I have dogs. I like to shove them out the door.” His voice keeps going, his young face still animated and defending. Jared just stares, seeing himself and Jensen like they’d been for so many conventions and interviews. Sitting casually in tall chairs and smirking at each other, playing off one another in a Grumpy vs. Dopey debacle … and then Jared’s smirking, remembering when Jensen gave them that label. _2009, Chicago_ he thinks, and then it’s like the levee busts open and he knows exactly where he is. Same city, one year earlier. 

He catches the last few words of his rambling. “Just out of the shower and all glistening – ”

“And I’m in the car. Waiting,” Jensen cuts in.

The crowd laughs, giddy and bustling at how easily they work off each other. And Jared’s so close to a laugh. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, because this is still absolute insanity that he is seeing this moment so vividly, but he takes it. He stands to the side and continues listening and watching, seeing how lively they both are. And he’s awed by the shine between them, barely remembering until now how much they really genuinely liked and cared for each other. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a girl asking if they’ll keep in touch, be “as good of friends,” once the show’s over. He’s frowning, knowing he hasn’t seen Jensen in person for a couple years … 

“Block his calls.”

“I’m just gonna fall off the face of the earth,” Jensen replies to Jared’s off-handed comment.

Jared hasn’t talked to him in so many months he can’t count them right now. 

“I mean, no, you know? What’s the point.”

“I’ll change my numbers,” Jared says.

“I’ll change the locks.”

Then he’s laughing, light and happy. “My house!”

Jared feels his heart clench as Jensen rolls his eyes. It’s all a joke, all for show, to make the fans laugh. But he feels the reality that that’s exactly what happened. 

As the panel ends and the guys walk off stage, Jared is torn. He wants to see more of Jensen and him together. Yet, he can feel anxiety building with just the one conversation about them losing touch. He doesn’t have much choice when Chad appears at his side and shuffles him off to one of the back rooms where convention staff leads the guys to settle before photos. 

People are moving around them, leaving them to their own space. Jensen’s downing a bottle of water while Jared slides up, hands on Jensen’s shoulders and shucking him back and forth. “Your mouth’s startin’ trouble your ass can’t handle,” Jared says with a smug laugh. 

Jensen smirks without turning around. His fingers squeeze the water bottle before he takes another sip. “Think I’m just being honest.”

“You take just as much time as I do, you little queen.”

“Impossible,” Jensen laughs as he turns to Jared. He drops his voice and his hands push through Jared’s hair playfully rough. “You totally Marcia Brady this up with one thousand brushes.”

Jared moves in, winding an arm around Jensen’s neck and the other hand goes to scratch over Jensen’s hair. “You jealous of my luscious locks?”

Jensen’s pushing back, but laughing, finally going limp against Jared’s hold. His tone levels out. “Yes, exactly that. I envy the grease ball.”

The voices fall quiet and he can no longer hear it but he can see how they’re laughing and smiling, playful with easy touches and short shoves. Chad shows at his side, hands tucked in his pockets. “Are you gonna cry?”

Jared looks over, surprised that Chad’s voice sounds more impressed than mocking. “What? No.”

“I’ve never made anyone cry. Future always does. Present got a few. You’d be my first. C’mon. Do it,” Chad eggs on. “I get steak knives.”

“What?” he asks, getting more enraged. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

He hears Chad’s explanation but doesn’t look at him because he watches everyone shuffle around him, leading the guys out of the room, fussing over them and where they need to be next. “Management has me on an easier game plan because _no one_ ever cries over past. They get pissy and then maybe kinda sad with the memories, but usually they’re just crabby. A few have been happy. Some people like their pasts,” he ends with a shrug.

Jared stares at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t you get it, J? Don’t you see what this is?”

“No, I have no idea.”

Chad tsks and sighs before he snaps his fingers and they’re suddenly in Jared’s living room. The living room he had in Vancouver. Jared knows it perfectly, even with the way the light is dim and there’s darkness filtering in through the windows, even though the room is fairly bare compared to how they had lived in that space. 

Jared gulps as he walks further into the room and finds himself on the ground with Jensen laid out next to him. There is no furniture, just moving boxes, takeout containers, a few empty beers, and two best friends on their last night. He’s gone so long forgetting this night, but right now, he knows it by heart. 

“I don’t need this okay,” he bitches at Chad. “Whatever game this is, you can cut it out. I’m done with the mindfucks.”

Chad shakes his head with a smile and he looks onto the scene before them. Jensen and Jared and sprawled across the floor, laughing and drinking, getting warm with beer in their bellies, and going soft with all their memories of living in that house. “It was your last hurrah.”

He grumbles, “I know what it is,” as he looks down on Chad. 

“A few beers, a few laughs,” Chad says while nodding at the guys on the floor. “Supposed to enjoy your last night in the house.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Did you?” He’s looking up to Jared, eyebrow up high. 

Jared ignores the words but he does stare right back. He doesn’t want to watch this scene. 

When Chad keeps his eyes on the scene, Jared gives up and watches, even though he sighs when he does it. Chad’s voice is a bit taunting, but it’s not loud or pushy. “When’s the last time you talked to Jensen?”

He clears his throat. “Been a while.”

“Why’s that?”

“Been busy.”

Chad clucks his tongue. “Busy not living? Leading that fantastic life where you don’t work and you hate your girlfriend?”

“I didn’t hate her,” Jared argues back with a scowl.

Crossing his arms, he chuckles. “Right, you just didn’t like her as much as the others.” Jared crosses his arms as well and Chad smirks. “As much as Jensen.”

Just then, Jared sees how his arm reaches out, the fingers dangling down Jensen’s chest as they laugh with the memory of a morning Jensen was shocked awake by a daddy long legs creeping up his stomach. Jensen’s smacking his arm away and pushing him over, but they’re both smiling and laughing. He’s got Jared on his stomach and he’s spread across his back, slipping one arm under his chest, the other pulling Jared’s arm back as he teases him. They’re wrestling, but it’s not heated and it’s not rough. Just the right amount of play to make them laugh and tumble over each other until Jared’s hand knocks a can over and beer spills across the wood. 

They’re laughing again, even while they clean it up, while Jensen gets them another beer, and while Chad shakes his head. “You get it yet?”

Jared doesn’t say anything. Partly because he doesn’t want to, but so much because he’s struck with how vivid this memory is now that he actually bothers to think about it. It’s been so long since he considered how they were in their last hours together, when they knew it was the end of the ride but held promise for so much else. 

“Ghost of Gaybag Past.”

Jared turns quickly. “What?” 

“Like Christmas Past, but, you know. _Gay_.” Jared glares and Chad tosses his hands out to point at the guys in front of them. “Look at you two. _Jesus_.”

There are casual touches, soft hands squeezing shoulders, one of Jared’s swiping over Jensen’s head before patting it, Jensen nudging a toe at Jared’s foot. All random, but caring and pointed, growing private. They clean up their things, tossing everything into garbage bags before walking off to their bedrooms, separating at the stairs. Jared turns back to Jensen, pulls him into a tight, warm hug and Jensen returns it without question. They stand there for long moments, holding each other, heads together.

“Gonna miss ya, man,” Jared says quietly.

“I know. You’re gonna have a hard time finding a roommate as perfect as me.”

He laughs, repositioning his head against Jensen’s. “Nah, could never replace ya,” he says honestly. 

Jensen pulls back, hands holding Jared’s face as they watch each other. “I gave you shit so much over the years. You know it’s not – ”

“No, c’mon,” Jared starts, shaking his head. “Dean this right up. No chick flick moments.”

He’s chuckling but staying in Jared’s space. “I’ll take your Dopey ass forever. You know that, right?” The corner of Jared’s mouth tips up and Jensen moves in, close. This is moment that Jared remembers so well, how his face tips down and Jensen’s eyes flash away and read disappointment and discomfort in the moment. Jensen shifts to kiss at Jared’s cheek with a pat on the back. 

Jensen’s smile is strained, but he’s working it well enough to move back. Jared’s murmurs a goodnight, pats Jensen’s shoulder as he turns to the stairs. 

The house is quiet with both men in their rooms, but Jared can hear his heartbeat flying. Chad pounds a hand to Jared’s back and they’re suddenly upstairs, in Jared’s room. They watch him stare at the ceiling, chest rising high with his hard breathing. They see how his eyes clench tight and flip back open. His head turns and Jared feels like this other him is staring at them, but he remembers what he was looking for, listening for, waiting on. 

“Really fucked that one up.”

Jared takes a deep inhale and pushes past Chad. “Whatever, just end this shit.”


	3. Chapter 3

**__**

Look at the things I do

When he wakes, the clock says two in the morning and he feels its mockery. He knows there’s no way he’d been swept away on that dream escapade for less than an hour. He can’t believe it. But he rubs his eyes and wills all the memories away. The laughter and the smiles and the almost kiss he knows Jensen nearly gave him. The same almost kiss that Jared thought about for months, a few years even, until he and Jensen lost touch. In between filming schedules and girlfriends and movie premieres, the best Jared ever handed over were emails and texts of good luck.

But here he lies, years later in his childhood bed, focusing on the pale ceiling and wondering how a friendship that was so tight could have unraveled so easily. 

He begins to count all the days and weeks and months that floated between each moment of contact. Jensen wasn’t exactly helpful in keeping in touch, but he won’t blame Jensen. It’s his fault, too.

“Sure is, son.”

Jared stares at the ceiling, eyes going wide. He doesn’t move. Can’t. Because worse than Chad raiding his fridge and mocking his past life is Jim Beaver leaning on his high school desk, crossing his arms, and giving off tiny huffs of impatience. Jared doesn’t look, won’t. Refuses to. This isn’t happening, not another visit from someone of his past. It isn’t real, he’s dreaming, this isn’t Jim in this room.

“You better believe it’s me.”

He gives a strangled chuckle. It’s not so much Jim as it’s Bobby, all gruffness and attitude. When Jared finally sneaks a glance, there’re the same beady eyes and wry smile, hidden by the same fuzzy beard he’d acted with years ago. “So, Megan drugged me?”

“Boy, I remember a time when you’d be glad to see me.”

Another strained laugh as Jared looks at Jim, takes in the crossed arms and the tense set of his shoulders. Jared rubs palms over his face, wants to hide behind them, but he can hear Jim _breathing_. It’s rough and whistling out his nostrils, it’s enough to grab Jared’s attention. “So, Chad’s on break?”

Jim gives off an angry sigh. “That kid’s always on break. I don’t know how he gets shit done ‘round these parts.”

He finally sits up, legs over the edge of the bed and elbows on his thighs. Rubbing his face again because this is insanity and he doesn’t know what Megan put in his drink, or his mother his food. But he’s not quite ready for another trip down memory lane.

“You could just do an old friend a favor and trust me.” 

When Jared looks up, Jim’s face is softer, like he’s asking for Jared to just take the chance instead of fighting it. For a split second, Jared wants to. Wants to step up and accept whatever Jim is offering him because he was one of the most amazing guys he ever worked with, caring and thoughtful and supportive. Jared, Jensen, and Jim. The guy even made jokes about how well they got along despite age and maybe because of the J that each one had. Jared’s struck with the thought that he hasn’t seen Jim since the final Supernatural party, after the last bits of show had aired and the network honored their hard work and dedication. And Jared hasn’t done anything hard or dedicated since.

“Jared?” It’s silent as Jim waits for an answer. His voice goes easy, “Son?”

“What do you want?” Jared asks carefully. 

“Take a walk with me.”

He watches Jim for a few good, long moments. Any other time he would, but … “I took a walk with Chad and wound up on an acid trip.”

Jim chuckles, a meaty, throaty sound. One Jared used to hear every day for a good chunk of his career. It warms his stomach to know that sound so well. “Look, the sooner you come with, the sooner you can come back.”

He’s dreaming, he’s certain of it. There’s no way this is real life … and then it dawns on him. If he’s dreaming, it can’t hurt to say yes, to go with Jim wherever he asks. There’s a tiny corner of his brain that hopes he can see more past memories, just to feel light again. But the edges of his soul that have been ripped and worn down over the years don’t want anything to do with the past. 

“I promise it’s not like Chad’s trip. It’s different.”

Jared finally succumbs. Rises silently and approaches Jim, who clamps a hand down on his shoulder and leads him out of the room. 

The second they cross the threshold, everything flashes and Jared finds himself in the brightly decorated foyer of a two-story home. There are wreathes and candles and bells and holly everywhere. Literally. _Everywhere_. The old Jared might’ve been egged on by the spirit in this home, but this Jared just winces at the overkill.

Jim’s no longer at his side, so he roams the hallway, following a sudden burst of laughter. As it dies out he hears the flutter of giggles that he knew for so long, and he stops. His hands clench and his eyes close. He doesn’t want to see what’s around the corner. Doesn’t want to know who’s surrounding her and why. 

But something forces him into the dining room, to the long table that’s full of happy guests celebrating Christmas Eve, and as he follows the length of the table, he finds exactly who he’d heard. Sandy. Long, shiny hair, tucked behind one ear but flowing over the other shoulder. Her smile is broad and if it were possible, he’s sure he’d see silver sparkles sheen across her teeth. She looks beautiful and elated and so flushed with happiness it makes his heart beat hard and his lungs stop breathing. There’s a man at her elbow, leaning around her to laugh with guests, for her to push back into as they continue with such glee that Jared can’t manage to watch her face anymore. He follows the lines of her red fitted top until the sleeves stop just above her elbow, showing off her tanned forearms leading to slender wrists and finally, he spots the silver band that wraps itself around a diamond engagement ring. 

Jared wants to smile because she’s so _happy_ , she’s beaming. But he follows the ring, follows the hand as it lifts and then rests at the pouch of her belly. His eyes burn and his brain shuts out all sounds to this vision. 

Sandy’s married. And pregnant. And so brilliantly happy. His brain manages a million different feelings … jealousy, grief, sadness, petulance, that now she has what he never gave her. She has exactly what she wanted but he didn’t provide. 

He snorts, shaking his head. And that’s when Jim reappears and says, “Funny life, eh?”

Jared looks at him and snorts again, crossing his arms tightly. “Whatever. Good luck to her career after popping out a baby.”

“She ain’t working anymore.”

He gives a quick glance, but then focuses on the people before him, even if he doesn’t really want to do that either. 

“Grant, here, takes care of her,” Jim nods at the table. 

“Grant?” Jared says with a _pfft_ noise at the end. “What kind of name’s that?”

“What kinda name’s Jared?”

He scowls then goes back to watching the dinner. “She’s gonna miserable, up all hours of the night with a kid. She could barely handle me up with the dogs because she needed a full eight hours.”

“Don’t think that’ll matter much. You know, once she’s got the family.” Jim’s hand lands on Jared’s shoulder and squeezes hard as he regards him. “Look, kid. I don’t know what your deal is – ”

“ _God_ ,” Jared sighs angrily. “First my mama and now you? No one pissed in my Lucky Charms, alright? Just … life ain’t shiny all days of the week, you know?”

Jim shakes his head, makes a grumbling sound, and releases Jared’s shoulder. “I remember days when you were brighter than sunshine. You’re just an angry li’l kid now. Thought you’d be happy to see someone you loved be well.”

Jared rolls his eyes and tucks his arms tighter against his chest, willing himself to ignore the speech. But Jim disappears and leaves Jared to view the rest of the dinner party. 

Sandy’s husband leans in, fingers draping over her hand, squeezing her wrist as he drops a kiss to her temple and her smile slips down before softening. It’s a familiar movement, one she’d done for Jared so many times, but right here, it’s for this guy. The father of her baby. The man in her life. 

Jared watches the rest of dinner, hardly logging much of anything in particular, but just seeing how the group interacts so easily, how all they do is smile and joke and chuckle and laugh. He remembers when this was them, tucked close and warm and in adoration for each other. But it didn’t work, and for so long, especially these last few weeks after cutting ties with Julie, he wondered if he’d really done it wrong when he was with Sandy, his first real love. But now … he wonders if it really would have mattered.

“She’s got what she wanted.”

He turns to Jim, who crosses his arms, hands tucked tight at his elbows, and he nearly rocks back and forth. Everything breaks, all his anger and bitterness flipping into sweetness and joy and pride that she got exactly what she wanted from someone who _could_ and _did_ give it to her. Jared feels his eyes burn for not the first time, and not the second, of this visit. They’re hot and wet and he doesn’t exactly feel like crying, but he can’t stop the tears from building. His voice is ragged but he tries to disguise it with a short cough. “She looks happy.”

“She is.”

The group at the table all stand, and they’re grabbing things off the table to clear. Most of them insist Sandy stay as is. One woman even pats Sandy’s belly and grins. As the room clears, leaving Sandy and her husband, Jared tenses, not sure he wants to see them in a moment like this. Because the guy is in close, arms circling her and nuzzling her ear and she’s smiling so wide and bright. “Hey, baby,” her husband murmurs. Then rubs her belly and smiles with a downward nod, “Baby.” She laughs, bats his hand but then holds it there. “You doing okay?”

“I’m doing _great_ ,” she beams as she kisses him, with gentle lips but with so much meaning. 

The way she smiles, so comfortably but with so many creases through her expression shows him something different from the Sandy he knew. He takes a few steps, getting closer to the table and sees more depth to her soft face, and it hits him. This isn’t Sandy from long ago. It all feels and looks different than the visits Chad took him on. He turns to Jim quickly with furrowed eyebrows. Asks almost manically, “When is this?”

“Today,” he answers simply.

“Today?”

Jim nods sagely and quirks his mouth. “Today. Now. Present.”

Jared eyes him, can’t register the playful little nod Jim has. He takes a quick look to Sandy, smiling with the dinner party again as they all start talking more about their lives. Through all the talk, it’s obvious this is a united group, one in which Sandy is fully entrenched. Something burns in his chest, rises to his throat, and he can’t put much to it, but he knows he’s done here.

Jim seems to read the dismissal in Jared’s mind, for he hitches his head to the side and motions Jared over. “You ready for number two?”

He swallows, moves closer, but asks skeptically. “You have three, too?”

With a nod and a crooked smile, Jim says, “Yeah, kid. I get three, too.”

Jared takes a deep breath, chances a quick look to the table and instantly regrets it. He’s in no shape to continue watching this scene. “Where we going now?” 

Jim’s hand is heavy on Jared’s shoulder as they turn. “Back to Texas.” 

Once they’re out of the room, Jared’s transplanted to the living space of a hotel suite. There’re items spilling from a suitcase in the corner and the bed in the far reach of the room is turned down, like someone’s ready to sleep but hasn’t made it yet. Then he hears rumblings from the bathroom followed by a high, short laugh and he cringes, immediately knowing that it’s Jensen walking into the room, cell phone tucked against his shoulder.

“Man, I ain’t heard from you in ages. How you doin’?” Jensen asks the phone and Jared can hear the slip of Jensen’s accent. 

He doesn’t listen to much more of the words though he does catch the slight drawl peeking through this side of the conversation. But what hits him harder, what gets his stomach rolling, is the softness to Jensen’s normally smooth face. How he looks older, but stronger in every other place. The lines of his shoulders are long but fine, his waist trim and his arms firm as ever. The face … Jared just stares. It’s so Jensen there, but there’s more to him, and he realizes this is what his once-dear friend looks like at 38. 

Jared falls to the edge of the bed and stares up into Jensen’s face as he’s moving things across the bed. Gathering clothes for the morning, Jared figures, and putting things back. He can’t stop staring at Jensen’s eyes, his nose, the slope of his cheeks and the edge of his chin. Can’t stop listening to the smooth pull of words. 

“You remember end of Season 1?” he chuckles. “Kid walked out … yeah, with the bouquet. What were they?” Jensen stops and listens for a second then busts oh, “Oh, fuck you. They weren’t begonias. You’re full-a shit.”

Jared’s mind carries him back a good ten years, to 2006, remembering the exact moment Jensen’s recounting, when he spent the whole wrap party at Jensen and Jeff’s side. _Jeffrey Dean Morgan_ Jared says to himself with an air of amazement. He smiles, enough that he’s amused himself at what he’d done to them. But little enough that he’s just barely aware of it.

“What’re you now? A florist?” Jensen moves back to the bathroom, but he’s back in seconds and barking, “Oh, shut up.” There’s fire to his words, but he’s smirking. A solid smirk that Jared had seen a million times when Jensen mocked him so relentlessly. “Go die on screen. C’mon now … they weren’t … you even know what gerbers look like? … You’re an idiot … no, they were … ”

Jared nearly whispers, “Carnations. They were carnations,” as he watches Jensen fight for the name. 

“Carnations!” Jensen crows and pumps a fist, short and tight, like he would all the times he beat Jared in Guitar Hero. “Yeah,” he laughs. “He brought hundreds of carnations and made us wear boutonnieres and take pictures, posing like prom.” His laughter builds, strong enough that he can barely talk, and it’s obvious the same is happening on the other side because Jensen pulls the phone away as he bends at the waist and lets it out. 

Jared runs his hands through his hair, chuckling right along with Jensen’s memory, but then he can’t stop the few tears that break free and trickle down. And he feels like laughing only keeps them coming, so he presses his hands into his face. Runs fingers through his hair again and settles his hands on the back of his neck, pulling tight as he takes a deep breath. 

Jensen rubs the back of his neck, scratches fingers into his hair. There’s a stilted chuckle. “Jeff, man, I don’t even know. Haven’t talked for a long while.”

He winces, falling hard into regret and wanting out of it … out of this. Jared looks for Jim, but he’s alone. Alone to watch Jensen carry on this conversation that Jared can’t even follow, having just Jensen’s side of it. Yet, it’s enough to fire him up and make him want to leave. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him … dude, come on … Hey! I’m not the only one. He didn’t … ”

Jared rises, not wanting to hear more and rushes for the door, flies right out of it … and into Jim. “Boy, you okay?”

“How d’you think I am?” he smarts back. Jim raises his hands, grabs Jared’s arms, and is about to calm him down but Jared forces his arms away and nearly shouts, “Just! Let’s go! I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Calm down now, alright?”

Thankful that at the very least, he can’t hear Jensen through their arguing, Jared sighs. “Can we just go? I’m tired of all this bull shit.”

“We got one more – ”

“Fine, let’s do the last stop. Let me go home. Christ!”

Jared pushes both hands through his hair as Jim guides him out of the hotel room. He can’t wait to end this scene and get away from Jensen and his voice, and the fact that he’s being forced to listen to Jensen recount exactly how much time has passed between them. How little Jared has kept in touch, kept up the friendship. He’s so tired of reliving his past, seeing this here. He just wants to be gone from this hotel room, but that’s before he truly considers what this whole mission really is, because seconds later he’s standing before a two-story country home, wraparound porch decorated with wreaths and twinkling lights winding with the railings. 

It’s been a good six, maybe seven years. But Jared recognizes the house in an instant. His stomach churns and his throat squeezes tight, blocking air and forcing him into dizziness. When he wanted to leave Jensen’s hotel room, the last place he wanted to go was the Ackles’ family home. 

Jim pats his back, a rueful smile delicately hanging on his face. “You wanted to leave.”

He thinks, gratefully, about Jensen in that hotel room and how he’ll just be watching the rest of the family. But it’s short-lived when headlights flash before them and an SUV pulls into the circle drive, parking just a few feet from where they stand. Jared doesn’t even watch, sure it’s Jensen hopping out of the car. He turns away from the scene of Jensen hopping up the stairs, grabbing his sister in a tight hug before sharing hugs and kisses with the rest of the family. 

Jim shrugs and repeats, “You wanted to leave.”

Jared sarcastically smiles, flashes angry eyes. “Right, like I wanted to leave for _this_.”

Jim pushes a hand out before them. “After you.”

Jared laughs cynically. He can’t imagine this going well and stills, crossing his arms tightly. He and Jim share a leveled gaze, each daring the other to change their stance. Jared’s heart soars when Jim sighs and shakes his head. 

“You goin’ in or what now?”

Jared just holds his stance, daring Jim to make him move.

Jim eyes him, sees the defiance and looks like he’s close to forcing him through this. But there’s a moment’s hesitation and then a slow smile creeps along. He crosses his arms and gives a short nod as he stands firm right alongside Jared. “Okay, son. We’ll just stay out here then.”

Jared wants to ask, wants figure out Jim’s quirky, satisfied posture. But he accepts this moment that Jim’s giving him, allowing him to skip out on this last scene. With a few steps, Jared’s leaning against Jensen’s rental and waiting for the time to pass.

It goes on far longer than Jared had imagined. He goes so far as to let his mind wander through any number of things Jensen and his family could be doing for the hour or so he and Jim are outside. He thinks about happy smiles, Josh punching at Jensen’s shoulder with loud, bright laughs, Mackenzie settling in close to her favorite brother, Donna and Alan sharing proud smiles and wine through dinner. He starts to wonder if his imagination is any better than having to actually experience the whole thing. Worse yet, his patience is stretched thin and he’s about to complain to Jim when the door swings open and Jensen steps out and sits on the stairs. 

His hands work through pockets for a cigarette and a lighter, snicking the flame to light the cigarette. Jensen takes a long, satisfied drag and releases a just as relaxing puff of smoke. He’s there for a few silent minutes, slowly milking the cigarette, until Mackenzie slips out the door and sits next to him with a laugh and a smack at his knee. 

They’re talking quietly, batting knees together and chuckling before Jensen hands over the nearly-done cigarette and lets Mackenzie finish off the last bit of it. Jared can’t hear them, isn’t sure he even wants to. He catches how comfortable Jensen and his sister are, bumping against each other, smiling, chuckling. But it’s when Jensen’s face draws in and Mackenzie tips her head against his shoulder that Jared wants to know. He wants to get close, listen in, catch every bit of this conversation. 

He stands, takes a short step, and then catches Jim’s amused glance. He’d just fought the man off, defiant to not live through this one. But now it’s all he wants, to hear Jensen in this moment because the guy’s face is now low and Mackenzie is soothing a hand over his back, across his shoulders. 

It doesn’t take much more for Jared to finally say _fuck it_ , ignoring Jim’s smug glance, and he walks to the porch just in time to catch Mackenzie leaning in close, curling her arm under Jensen’s. “I can’t believe that you’ll be alone forever,” she smiles. “So stop thinking it yourself.”

“No, I’m not … that’s not it,” Jensen quickly, yet quietly argues back. “I’m just sayin’ that … Look, if I am, then fine. If I’m alone … ”

“You’re not alone. You’ve got people.”

“There’s a difference between lonely and alone.” There’s a long moment when Jensen sighs. “I’d rather be on my own than settle.”

Jensen’s voice sounds sturdy, like he’s comfortable in his words, but there’s something hitched inside of his throat that Jared can hear. Even after three years of radio silence, Jared knows Jensen, he knows this isn’t Jensen being honest. This is Jensen trying to be open while slipping something under a protective layer and keeping it to himself.

“How could you settle?” Mackenzie asks with a small smile. “I’ve seen who you date. I wouldn’t call models settling.”

He works a small smile, looking humored, but here, too, Jared knows better. “Do I really need to give you the ‘looks aren’t everything’ speech?” Jensen jokes with her.

“Right, just what I need from you at Christmas. A lecture.” They chuckle, bumping into each other until Mackenzie shifts and rings an arm around his back and rests her head on his shoulder. 

Her voice drops low, like she’s asking him about a shared secret that they don’t want another soul to hear, and when her words come out, Jared realizes it truly is just that. “I can’t believe you still don’t talk to Jared.”

Jensen’s shoulders rise and Jared’s drop low. Each tensing but for completely polar reasons. Jensen’s voice gets tight but comes with a tiny rumble, “Nah, it’s fine. Just drifted apart.”

Jared’s mind turns over itself, scrambling so many thoughts he can’t manage to understand why Mackenzie’s even closer, kissing at Jensen’s shoulder then whispering, “He why you won’t settle?”

Everything pauses. Jensen stalling, Mackenzie waiting, Jared unable to breathe. He’s not even sure what he wants Jensen’s answer to be, but he knows his stomach is curling tight, and his spine is tingling in a way he didn’t know was possible, especially when concerning Jensen. 

Jensen tucks his head down with an awkward chuckle, snagging fingers through his hair. “What? Of course not,” he tries to say with a push, but Jared knows this.

And so does Mackenzie because she takes a deep breath and lays her head back onto his shoulder. “Jensen,” she says, calling him out on the bluff, but waiting for him all the same.

Jared is moving before he even realizes it, getting closer, crouching before them so he can clearly see Jensen’s mouth twitch and curl as he fights the words. Then Jensen’s head shoots up and he rubs his hand over his mouth, eyes flaring before staring clear across the yard. But Jared feels it deep in his body, wringing every muscle, down to his toes. Because it feels like Jensen’s staring right at him. Like he knows Jared is right there, listening, waiting for an answer. 

Mackenzie’s voice is quiet and muffled into Jensen’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Jensen twitches at the interruption to his long silence, looks to the side then back up, pressing both elbows into his knees as he finally releases a breath. “I just … I don’t know,” he mumbles with a short, skeptical chuckle. 

“Maybe if you tried calling – ”

“It’s been years,” he says, not quite sad, but there’s something hanging in the air that Jared can tell means more. “No point in … whatever now.”

Mackenzie looks up to Jensen, then hides her eyes like she’s afraid to ask, “Did you guys … did you ever …”

He looks over for a second then rubs both palms over his face and takes a long sharp breath. It’s then that Jared rises and turns, not wanting to see Jensen fight his words or his feelings any longer. He again sees the moment Chad forced on him and he imagines Jensen’s doing the same, because Jensen tiredly says, “One time … at the end … He just waved me off.” There’s a short laugh, a little angry, but mostly resigned. “Said ‘no chick flick moments.’” Jensen’s forcing the next statement out, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself than his sister. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I didn’t know,” Jared says, as if Jensen could actually hear, as if admitting this would change everything right now. He turns, seeing Jensen’s twisted mouth, the faraway look in his eyes, and he yells at him. “I didn’t know, okay! You didn’t say anything!” The way Jensen sighs and closes his eyes, rubs a hand over his face again, it feels like he’s actually on the other end of this, and Jared keeps going, getting closer and getting louder and more hoarse as he goes. “I didn’t think anything would happen! I didn’t know you felt like that. It _would_ have mattered. It all matters! Jesus!” 

“Alright,” Jim’s voice comes out gentle, but his hands are firm on Jared’s arms as he pulls him away from Jensen. Jared’s fighting back for a few moments, until he watches Jensen rise and give his best smile to Mackenzie before they head back inside. His shoulders sag and he lets Jim hold him, as he has no energy left to bother. 

When he feels the hands let up, he shakes out of Jim’s hold and takes a few steps, swearing and punching the air, kicking dirt. Part of him knows he should be floored by Jensen’s admission, flattered, excited. But so much of him clings to the bitterness of his life, to the spike of regret digging into his back and the pain of what could have been but isn’t. “Fuck!” he shouts, pushing hands into his hair and bending at the waist. His eyes shut and he tries to calm his breathing, but it’s damn near impossible.

Even when Jim comes up, settles a hand at his back, rubbing, soothing. He’s mumbling words of encouragement to calm him, but it doesn’t work, and Jared pathetically begs Jim to take him home. Jim pats his back once more and steps away, and when Jared looks up, they’re in front of his parents’ home, back in San Antonio. He’s both relieved and drained from the whole incident and wordlessly tramples up the stairs, through the house, and up to his room. He passes out in seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

**__**

Dumbed down and numbed by time and age

_So that’s it_ , Jared thinks, eyes clenched tight in the dark of his bedroom, willing away the dreams. He wants anything to happen other than his mind holding on to all he’s seen … from his long-forgotten past with Jensen, happy and smiling, right down to Jensen and Mackenzie on that porch, quiet yet open, bared for Jared to see.

 _Impossible_ , he tells himself. Crazy, tripped out, ridiculous, not real. It’s just his brain playing tricks, winding him up even tighter than he needs to be during this family holiday. He throws himself over the mattress, tugs the blankets down to his hip and stares across the room … stares right at the devil himself, Mark Pellegrino, leaning against the window then suddenly straightening and smiling gently. “Oh, good. You’re awake.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Jared groans and rolls to his back. He goes so far as to kick feet into the mattress, pound a fist down. 

“You okay?” Mark asks with a hint of worry as he moves across the room.

Jared shoots a hand out, firm palm making his point. “Don’t you fucking come over here.”

“I don’t – ”

“What’re you doing here?” he grounds out between tight jaws.

There’s a short silence and then a small sigh before Mark speaks again. “I’m here to show you Christmas future.”

Jared snorts angrily, shakes his head. “Right. Because you’re Lucifer.”

“What? No,” he frowns. “I mean … yeah, I was, but. You know that was a role, right?”

Jared shakes his head and sits up, feet to the floor and hands scraping over his face. He looks up at Mark’s calm demeanor, how he sounds so much like the smooth Lucifer he portrayed on screen so many years ago. Jared chuckles, and it’s a bit humored but mostly bitter. “Of course you’re Future. Those bastards are always the creepiest.”

Mark sighs, frowns, and pinches a finger and thumb to his nose. “You know, I thought it was a great idea. But I’ve just been typecast ever since.”

“You _are_ the Ghost of Christmas Future. You’re going to show me how depressing my life will be.”

“Well, yeah,” Mark replies with a frown. “Doesn’t mean that I’m a horrible person.”

Jared stares for a few long moments before sighing and pushing his hands out. “Okay, whatever. Sorry you got the short end of the stick here.”

Mark looks more relaxed, even smiles a bit. “Thanks. I just hate people thinking I really _want_ to show them the bad side to life.”

“Well, then,” Jared starts, sounding happy for the first time in a long time, “That’s cool. Because I don’t really _want_ to see any more of my bad life.”

Then he’s frowning again. “No, Jared. I have to. Policy says once you start, you’re stuck with us.”

Jared wipes his face and settles a hand at his throat. He squeezes lightly and considers it all, wonders how much worse any of this could really get. He knows, so knows, this whole thing is impossible to be real. His mind is just trying to tell him to be a better person, just like his mother had out on the porch, swinging together, and trying so hard to tell him how he used to be. 

“You ready?” Mark asks with a hesitant smile.

He huffs out a harsh breath and shakes his head, drops his hands between spread legs. “No,” he replies tiredly, because on top of not sleeping through this night, his brain is absolutely drained from the emotional trips Chad and Jim have already taken him on. “I’m not … I can’t do this. I’m not leaving this house again.”

There’s an odd motion to Mark’s head, a cross between a nod and a thoughtful shake of his head. Then he crosses his arms and smiles, but it’s not as gentle as he’d been before. It’s a bit tight and says something that makes Jared uneasy. “Okay,” he says with a short shrug. “We don’t have to leave the house.”

Jared stares, beginning to worry, because the last time he said he wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t going into the Ackles’ home, he was forced to watch Jensen admit his feelings, and Jared had to see how wrecked Jensen was with the notion. 

There’s a sudden burst of noise from down below, loud voices and heavy footsteps and other random clatters of commotion. Mark smirks. “Maybe we should check that out?”

He shakes his head, rolls his eyes, but he’s standing and walking out of the room. “I hate you all. So much. You have no idea.”

“I’m pretty sure we know.”

When Jared gets downstairs, he sees the rumblings of Christmas, much like he pictures the next afternoon will go. Extended family members decked out in holiday wear, smiles plastered on their faces. The dining room table is set, as well as the kitchen table for the younger kids. His mother and sister and sister-in-law and a few aunts are bustling in and out of the kitchen, placing food on the tables then working their way back into the kitchen to grab more. He’s overwhelmed by the noise and the people, but they’re moving in sync, so easily shifting around each other to avoid collisions. 

It doesn’t feel any different than any other holiday he’s had in this home, the men in the family room watching football, laughing and drinking, while the women arrange the meal and kids run between legs, screeching with happiness as they chase each other through the house. He doesn’t even understand the future aspect, going just one day ahead of where he is now … but then he sees it. Sees Megan, with her hair slicked back into a neat ponytail, face pink with joy. But that’s not even it, it’s the ring on her finger, it’s the young girl she’s pulling into her arms, up to her hip, to comfort through hiccupy cries. A child that can’t be more than four or five, but is the spitting image of Megan, dark hair, bright, wide eyes, same sleek nose. 

There’s a burn in Jared’s chest, he feels it inching up his throat and it settles there. He can’t swallow down this emotion. Megan as a mother, beautiful little daughter in her arms, both smiling so sweetly as Megan kisses her cheek. Beyond the poise she’s carrying in her shoulders and her hips as she lets the girl down and moves around the dining room, he sees how her face is smooth, confident, aged in just the right way. 

“Meggie,” he murmurs emotionally, still watching as a man comes up and pats her hip as he passes, smiling down on her, and she smiles right back up in a way that Jared knows is love. He’s thrown back to so many long nights on the phone, Megan sensitive to his _you’ll find someone, don’t worry_ speeches whenever she complained about boyfriends and exes. How she confided in him so many times about what really went on in her relationships, how and why they fell apart, and how each time she vowed it was the last time. And here she is … however far in the future Mark has taken him, happy, married, a _mother_. 

He’s beyond proud, heart bursting with warmth, wanting so badly to see the moment she tells the family she’s getting married, see her in that dress, the day she tells them she’s pregnant, the first glance at the baby, watching the girl grow. He wants it all in an instant. 

But it’s ripped from his dreams when she looks at her watch, angrily sighs then looks to their mom with a shake of her head. “We really have to wait for him?”

“Yes, Megan,” Sherry replies tiredly, like this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

“I don’t even know why we bother – ”

Jared watches as her husband leans against the doorway, looking between Megan and Sherry like he’s afraid to step in but wants to be there for Megan. “What’s wrong?” And Jared’s nodding, too, because he’s lost right now. 

She huffs, tosses both hands out. “Jared! Of course. Dinner’s ready and he’s late.”

And then he’s not lost. Megan’s pissed at him. It feels familiar, considering how quickly their relationship fell apart over the last few years, but it still stings to hear how heated and resolute she is with her anger for him.

“Megan, he’ll be here. You know he will,” Sherry tries to sooth, but Megan goes on anyway.

“No, I don’t know that.”

“Hey, Meg,” her husband offers with a smile.

“No, don’t ‘hey, Meg,’ me,” she complains, crossing her arms. “He missed Isa’s birthday party. He was late for Thanksgiving.” Then she snaps, like it’s just occurred to her that Jared is even worse than she’s already said. “Easter! Said he was running late, didn’t even show up. I don’t know why we bother.”

Jared stares, in horror and shock and in short, silent tears that are building, daring to fall. He can’t manage which hurts more, that he would be so irresponsible, so inconsiderate to miss that much with apparently so little regard. Or that his sister is so embittered with him. 

He can hear them arguing more, over transgressions that he hasn’t even committed yet, but have been splitting the family for far too long, Sherry defending him, Megan roasting him. But he’s not focusing on them anymore, he’s thinking more about getting out of the room, rushing up the stairs, and he’s standing in the doorway to his old room. It now holds toy bins and a princess bed in the corner. The walls are painted in purples and pinks with the alphabet coursing the space along with a trunk overflowing with tiaras, tulle, and crowns. The room is now Isa’s, it’s so obvious, and makes so much sense right here. A place for her to stay with grandma and grandpa. Instead of the sweetness in the gesture, he’s struck by the fact that everything is changed. For Megan, it’s her family and daughter. For his parents it’s having a granddaughter and young life in their home. For him, it’s missing out on all these things, and showing so little care for it.

Mark appears behind him, and opens his mouth to talk, but Jared turns from the room and heads back downstairs. He’s not sure it’s the best thing at the moment, but it’s all he can think of to bypass whatever wisdom Mark could impart. 

The family is seated, split between the long dining room table and the kids table in the other room. Megan’s husband helps Isa settle with food cut up in the right proportions, kisses the top of her head, even drags a hand over the heads of the other kids with a goofy smile before joining the adults. Jared catches how Megan sighs, tense shoulders and tight, fake smile as she stares at the empty seat across from her. 

“Megan,” Jeff calls out from a few seats down. She looks over and he gives a small, comforting smile before he asks, “You wanna give grace?”

She looks up to their parents for permission and they both nod with a smile, grabbing the hands of those around them before she can speak. “Dear Lord,” she says quietly, but sweetly. “We thank you for these gifts we are about to receive, and for giving us another year together.” Her smile is small but genuine until her eyes lift to the chair again. “May you welcome those family and friends we’ve lost over the past year and keep them close. And keep an eye on those,” and here she falters, dropping her head again, working her mouth, biting into her lips. 

Jared sucks in sharply, holds it as he watches her struggle, not even sure what about, but still not wanting to see this moment for her. 

Her husband squeezes her hand, leans close enough to touch shoulders for comfort. She takes a steadying breath and forces a smile then rushes out, “On those who couldn’t be here for whatever reasons they may have. We wish them well. Amen.”

The table echoes, “Amen,” and Jared just stares at Megan, not taking in any other thing at the table except for how she tries to smile, like everything is fine and she’s happy to dish out yams to their dad, but he can see it’s not right. 

Mark appears, slight smile and light voice. “You don’t show up by the way.”

“What?” Jared asks sharply.

“In case you were wondering? You never show up.” 

Jared continues staring, trying so hard to work out what he really feels in this situation. He doesn’t know what his reasoning is for not being around, for being such a bad uncle and brother and son. He figures it’s something deserved, like work. Maybe his career’s back on track and he’s busy out on location. Maybe he has someone in his life that he spends this Christmas with. There are many, many maybes swimming in his mind. 

But Mark breaks the bubble of maybes when he says, “Just stopped coming to family holidays. No reason. Just ‘cause.”

He shakes his head, purses his lips, and crosses his arms as they half-heartedly watch the family talk and eat and create yet another holiday. “Not just ‘cause.”

“Pretty much. Just ‘cause,” Mark repeats with a swift nod.

Jared looks over, feeling sorry for his family, for Megan, for himself. He’s close to delving further into it all, but he decides he’d rather this all be done with, so he sighs and faces Mark with a pathetic wave of his hand. “Alright, you got two more, right?”

“Oh, you’re ready?”

Jared waves his hand again, walks away. “Whatever, let’s just finish.”

They turn the corner and they’re in a different dining room. It’s larger yet darker, less full, less lively, but still comfortable. The table’s half-set, mostly cold items like a Jell-o mold, cranberries, and a plate of deviled eggs. Jared can hear people fussing in the nearby kitchen and as he moves towards that doorway, a guy rushes into the room, cell phone pressed tight to his ear. Jared eyes him, sees how he’s randomly glancing back into the hallway while hushed on the phone. One look around the corner gives Jared a peak at Josh and Mackenzie talking animatedly near the kitchen sink then laughing and he realizes he’s in Jensen’s parents’ home again. He takes a quick look around, catches the family photos on the wall, showing how the family has grown over the years, now with kids of their own.

“I know, baby, I know. I told you I would.”

Jared turns to the guy in the room, catches the tall posture and the smooth, dark hair, curling at the base of his neck even while a hand works over and through it. 

“I’ll be there later tonight … No, after … yeah, I know it’s Christmas. And I miss you, too. But I told you I had to do this first.”

The guy keeps hurrying through his call and forcing himself around a corner even when sneaking glances down the hallway like he’s hiding.

“No, I know. I told you … you are, you so are. You’re the only one I want. I wanna be there right now, you have no idea … love you, too … yeah, but it’s Christmas. I can’t leave him alone … I know, but I’m not leaving you alone. I’ll be there tonight and make it up to you.”

There’s the tiniest creak from behind Jared and the way the guy flinches makes him wonder if he can actually be seen this time. But then the guy’s eyes go beyond Jared, over his shoulder, and when Jared turns, Jensen’s crossing the room. 

“Who’s on the phone?” Jensen asks with a quiet, awkward tone.

“Mom, I gotta go … Merry Christmas,” he beams and ends the call as Jensen steps up close. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss, rubbing a hand over Jensen’s hip. 

Jensen watches the guy for a few seconds, silent and searching. “What’d she want?”

“Wish us a Merry Christmas.”

“We saw her this morning.”

The guy smiles, slow and sure, then kisses Jensen again, coaxing him, and Jared wants to throw up in this moment. Not at the image of Jensen with someone, but with someone who is so obviously lying to him, hiding from him, _cheating_ on him. 

“You know how moms are. All anxious,” he smirks then he smacks at Jensen’s ass as he passes. “Dinner ready yet?”

Jensen turns, watches the doorway. A hand comes up to swipe across his mouth, as if erasing those kisses, but then it rests there with Jensen falling into thought. His eyes roam the room and stop at one point just beside Jared, and they’re both frozen. Jared’s drawn in by Jensen here, older yet, still handsome and full of strength, but at the moment looking lost with regret and possibly the inability to do or say what he wants. 

Jared knows what _he_ wants. He wants to yell at Jensen, wake him up, tell him what he heard on the other end of that call. He wants to drag him from this moment of doubt and put him into the known. 

Jensen’s shaken from his daze when the family files into the room, carrying platters of hot food and settling down for dinner. His boyfriend joins in, hands slipping over Jensen’s hips as he walks by, and Jared’s not blind at the way Jensen regards him oddly, or in the way Mackenzie is eyeing them both from across the table. 

The guy plays with his phone through half of dinner, smirking at the screen, firing off texts. Jensen leans over at one point, quiet as can be, but it’s obvious that a few people hear and are carefully watching while trying to be consumed with their meal. “Why don’t you put that away?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he smiles, nearly beams to the table with a wide mouth that Jared’s sure had been charming upon first glance. But right here, it makes Jared burn with anger, knowing exactly what the guy’s doing. 

Sometime later, the cell makes another appearance and Jensen again softly asks, “Hey, put it away, yeah? Christmas dinner, man.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he smiles again as he finishes up his typing, shielding it from anyone’s eyes but his own with the angle it takes just beneath the tablecloth. 

Suddenly, Mackenzie’s voice comes out sharp. “Dan. I believe Jensen asked you to put it away.”

He looks up, purely innocent before he gives a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry. Just family. Merry Christmas texts and all.”

“I’m sure,” she says with a smart smile and pointed eyes. “Amazed they let you out of their sight today. For all the attention they require.”

“Mac,” Jensen sighs. 

She motions her fork around. “Just sayin’. With all the phone calls and the texts and the running to another room, I’m surprised he could manage a holiday without them.”

“Mac,” he repeats with more push in his voice. 

“What? Seems like they’re rather close, ya know?” Mackenzie stares back at Jensen, tips her head just so, and it’s a silent message, daring him to have this conversation, to really hear what she’s trying to tell him. 

Jared feels his stomach flip in exhilaration. Mackenzie knows. She’s trying to say it, trying to force the issue. He’s clenching fists, begging for her to go there, to bring it to light. 

But Jensen grits out, “Cut it out,” and Donna sighs between them, ending the issue without a word. 

As they’re cleaning up, Jared watches Mackenzie slide close to Jensen, picking up napkins and silverware but saying quietly. “Can’t believe you brought him.”

Jensen’s piling plates into his hands, trying to stay busy while he answers, “Don’t start.”

“Can’t believe you’re still _with_ him.”

“Mac, I’m telling you,” Jensen returns angrily.

She turns to him, and they’re close, with just a few dishes between them. “Really, Jensen, why? No, actually, I wanna know how it’s possible?” 

Jensen drops his plates to the table with a loud clatter, ignoring how the noise signals chips and shatters. Everyone looks, but he just barks, “Outside,” and marches out of the room. 

Jared watches Mackenzie watch Jensen leave, sees how it takes her a few seconds before she follows, but it’s with determination and a kick in her step. Jared rushes right behind her, out the front door on her heels, and is just as surprised as she is with Jensen’s immediate attack.

“I cannot _believe_ you. Damnit, Mackenzie. It’s Christmas. Give me a fucking break for once.”

She’s yelling right back, and it’s obvious that this has been an issue between them for some time, because they’re fierce and pushing right into each other’s space as they battle for ground in the argument. Mackenzie’s mouth is sharper than she is tall, making up for the fact that she has to look up into Jensen’s anger, but it’s not stopping her at all. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll step back and watch you in torment while your boyfriend is phonefucking someone _else_.”

His face screws up and he yells back, “Oh stop being so melodramatic!”

“Stop being blind! Jesus, Jensen. I _heard_ him on the phone.”

“It was his mom!”

“God! You are so _stupid_!” she rages back, as if Jensen’s pain is in fact hers, as if Dan’s betrayal was on her. 

Jared’s torn through it, watching Mackenzie fight and push herself into Jensen’s headspace, to make him understand. But he sees how Jensen is firm on the issue, far in denial and ignoring every bit of Mackenzie’s words. They continue yelling, Mackenzie making her point and bringing up so many other times this has been of issue, telling of Dan’s constant infidelity and Jensen’s continuous ignorance. Jensen’s fight willows. He’s still mad and yelling, but there are less words, less interruptions to his sister’s ranting until he finally says tiredly, “God, shut the fuck up,” and then slumps onto the stairs of the front porch. His head drops into his hands and he’s breathing heavily as Mackenzie just watches. “I don’t need this.”

“To get a lecture? When you’re this dumb, you definitely need one.”

“I know, alright? I fucking know. I know he’s cheating.”

Jared has the same reaction as Mackenzie to Jensen’s sensitive words, to the drop in his voice, the waver in the tone. Both faces drop with emotion and care and they each step closer, but Jared stops when it dawns on him that he isn’t really part of this, and he leaves it to Mackenzie to reach the stairs and fall beside Jensen. Her arms pull him in, looking anything but the part of little sister, and more of equal, confidant, comforter. 

Jensen sighs, ragged and long. “I’m too old for this.”

Her head leans into his, and she kisses the top of his head as her voice goes gentle. “You’re never too old for this.”

“No, to be alone, to be out there looking.”

“God, you are so stupid,” she says once again, but with much less heat and more concern and pain. 

Jensen shifts away from her but not too far out of her space. He rests his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, and breathes long and deep, easing himself. “I just … it’s not that bad. I deal, whatever. It’s better than being alone.”

“There’s a big difference between lonely and alone,” Mackenzie says with a tiny tilt to her voice and with her face moving closer to his. “Remember that?”

He turns his head, pushes a fist into his temple as he watches her for a long while, until he finally says, rather pathetically, “He’s just … ”

“He’s not Jared,” she says immediately, with enough strength that says she truly means it and has been wanting to say it for a long time. “He’s tall and has the cute hair and the charming smile, but that’s it. It ends there, and you know it.”

“Oh fuck,” Jared whispers, as it’s all finally, truly, absolutely hitting him. The dump in his stomach, the ache in his chest, the sharp pins in his spine. Jensen’s miserable, trying to fill the void, Jared’s void, and at the same time as this Christmas future, he’s miserable and alone, without family, and the pitiable fact of it all is they’re complete strangers. To each other and themselves. Abandoning the bright, beautifully dynamic men they had once been, and falling to the path of least resistance. Ignoring what was right before them the entire time. 

For five years in Vancouver, they were everything to each other. Roommates, best friends, co-workers … next step would’ve been life partners. There were enough times they joked over it. Next step would’ve been to erase that line and be together with that one last stretch of emotion to keep them together, to make them better than ever. It was right there, one final piece waiting to click. And Jared sees it now. Feels it in the pain swirling within, knowing how unhappy Jensen is here, how unhappy they’ll both be. 

Jensen’s shaking his head, turning away as he tries to convince her. “No, that’s not it. I didn’t even think – ”

“Jensen, please,” Mackenzie pleads as she slips closer to him again. “ _Please_ end it. Be done with him. If you’re gonna settle, do it with someone who at least _likes_ you.”

Mark slides into place beside Jared, starts talking loud enough that Jared can no longer catch what Jensen and Mackenzie are saying. “Poor guy. Boyfriend’s cheating on him and then his sister pounds it into his head. I can’t even imagine.”

Jared can hear how Mark’s voice is easy and caring. He’s not cheapening this moment. He swipes a hand through his hair, weighed down by not just Jensen’s deconstruction, but also by his own epiphany. Right here, he wants to grab Jensen, shake him from his stupidity then crush him into his own body, hold him tight, make things right. “He was never that guy,” Jared says quietly, still watching Jensen and Mackenzie talk, but not knowing what’s being said. “He always ended things when they ran its course. He didn’t drag it out or stick around too long. He took care of himself.”

“Kind of like he did with you.”

He looks to Mark, sees the careful yet knowing smirk, and it hits him once more. Jensen ended contact with him when they ran their course. He cut himself off to protect his own needs and wants. He’s loved Jared all this time and couldn’t stand to draw out the charade of being so close but not quite _there_.

Mark continues watching him, but Jared’s focused on Jensen and Mackenzie as they move back into the house. “Wait,” Jared pushes, taking quick steps closer to the house, but it withers away in a slow burn to an empty landscape. Jared looks around, nothing surrounding them for miles. Just the two of them, standing on flat earth with a stark sky around them. “What happened? What’d he say? He left him, right?”

The corner of Mark’s mouth quirks and he gives a short nod. It all betrays his words, hitting Jared in the gut, sharp daggers piercing. “He doesn’t.” Mark shrugs, like this is light news, like it’s not going to slowly kill Jared. “Tries, but never quite lets go. Just hangs on. They stay together for a long time. A miserable long time.”

Jared’s breathing increases, gets heavy in his lungs and pushes his chest up and out on each inhale. He looks up with heavy eyelids, unseeing eyes staring up into the dark sky. There are so many things filling his brain, dying to get out, but he can’t manage any words, doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know where they lead. 

With tight fists, he punches his own head, pushes them into his forehead with low muttered curses. He drops down to a crouch, hides his face in his hands, and lets out a pitiful, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yeah,” Mark says slowly, like he doesn’t know how to help. He’s then just beside Jared, easy hand on his head and pressing with just enough pressure that it’s weird, but not painful. “You’ll figure it out.”


	5. Chapter 5

_**Three words that became hard to say** _

He wakes to a shout. Not his own, but a loud, high-pitched scream. It’s all fuzzy, and he can barely make anything out, muffled in his ears and foggy in his mind.

_Jared!_

His eyes clench tight, he’s not sure what’s going on. It’s dark, and he’s confined and can’t work his way up for fresh air.

_Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaared!_

He pushes his hands out, restricted and huddled in his own cocoon and he wishes he could move.

_Mama says to wake your ass up!_

_I did not say … Megan, go _up_ there and wake him up. Christ, child._

Jared blinks, repeatedly and quickly, until he can realize it’s the covers wrapped tight around him, all over him, that are keeping him from getting up. Kicking and punching at the blankets give him reprieve until he can tug them away and see Megan in the doorway, hand on her hip and shaking her head with a scowl. “You gonna get up? Mama says we can’t eat until we’re all eating. Get up.”

He watches her turn, not waiting for a response, and then hears her stomping down the stairs. He looks around the room, finds it in the same state it was when he went to bed the night before. No evidence of Jim Beaver or Mark Pellegrino, no trailing sense of Chad ever being in the house, or that he’d barely slept because he was off seeing so many other things. 

When he gets to the kitchen, Sherry’s flipping pancakes, minding a pan of bacon, handing a platter to Gerry so he can plate some eggs. This looks and feels so perfect, like every other Christmas morning they’ve shared. Sherry’s traditional Christmas breakfast with every fixin’ available, including biscuits and gravy, sausage, toast, not to mention fresh squeezed orange juice and brewed coffee. It all smells wonderful and tempting and he wants to grab a slice of sizzling bacon right out of the pan, wants to guzzle down the pulpy juice, just wants to take it all in and keep it because this is Christmas morning, and considering all he had to witness overnight, all he was forced to see, this is bright and warm and cozy. The exact opposite of all he had to experience. 

He leans into Sherry, partly to watch the pancakes brown, but also to say softly, and a bit happily, “Merry Christmas, Mama,” and kiss her cheek. 

“Merry Chris – ” she starts as she tilts her head to smile at him, but then she stalls. Eyes roaming his face, catching his light smile and feeling his hand gently rubbing between her shoulders. Her smile solidifies and she nods. “Merry Christmas, JT.”

“Hey, Dad,” he says with a smile as he pats Jerry’s back and receives a _Mornin’_ in return. 

He finds Megan in the dining room, setting the table with red placemats, perfect white dishes, and green napkins, like every other year before. He moves behind her, hand squeezing her shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Meg.”

Her tone is lighter than it was when she woke him, but he can still hear a bit of tension in it. “Merry Christmas, Jared.”

His mind flashes to that Christmas Future vision, to her grown up, happy, a mother. To her having such issue with him, such disappointment, and he never wants to see her look so troubled again. He squeezes both her shoulders, kisses the top of her head, and talks against her hair. “I’m sorry, Meggie. I’m gonna be better.”

Megan freezes in his arms, stalling her hand above the plate and swallowing loudly. “Sorry for what?”

Jared wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in tight. “For everything,” he says against her head. “I’ve been a jerk.”

“Been an asshole,” she says quietly. 

He chuckles and hugs her tighter. “Okay, I’ve been an asshole. And I’m sorry for being an asshole. I’m gonna do better by you.”

So slowly, her hand comes up, holds his wrist and squeezes. “What brought this on?”

“Christmas miracle,” he smiles into her hair and then releases her, moving around to help her finish. 

Megan watches him critically through their chore, and through most of breakfast as Jared’s smiling. It’s not as broad or as bright as it used to be, but it’s such a grave difference from the night before, from the past few years, that it’s hard to ignore. Sherry minds him every once in a while, eyes catching his and searching, like she’s waiting for him to drop back, or trying to read his mind, find what changed him overnight. Each time, he just smiles back and continues eating, continues listening to the family banter. 

As they clean up, passing in and out of the room, Jared takes a few seconds on each trip to admire the Christmas cards pinned up and down the doorways. Ones he so swiftly ignored the night before and used to be a source of long bouts of reading. He always liked seeing who he knew from the cards, see pictures of dogs and kids and family vacations, catch the yearly letters that let family and friends know how families had survived the year. 

There’s a familiar script, one that he can’t ignore and reads repeatedly.

_Thinking of you both as always.  
Wish you the best and hope for another happy, healthy year._

_Sending love for Jared, Meg, and Jeff and his family._

_Jensen_

Jared stalls, breathing is his only movement. Until his finger slides away to release the top of the card, to cover up the writing. But then he flips it up again, reads again, and again, and again. He tugs it from the wall and holds it in his hand, thinking of Jensen holding it, the pen in his hand as he thought of the message. He didn’t just sign his name, didn’t give a random _Happy Holidays folks!_ Jensen wrote words and thoughts and names, singled out the family, made a point to address the moment to Sherry and Jerry. Jared’s not even sure when he last sent Jensen a Christmas card. He imagines his assistant might take care of them, randomly signing his name, no message, blindly sending them out based on a list. But here, this is personal, it’s Jensen.

And no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, push everything he saw to the back of his mind, he can’t deny his feelings at every scene. Can’t pretend they weren’t real, because his reactions were real and account for so much of the bitterness that’s been coursing through his veins these last few years. 

“Jared?” Sherry asks oddly as she nears him. “Gonna take the plates in?”

He reaches for the envelope tacked up where the card was, as his mother always does, keeping everything in one place. He sees the Richardson address, and he realizes that Jensen’s home. He’s not _close_ by any means, but he’s not in L.A., and he’s not far across the globe on some random jaunt. Jared saw Jensen at home, with his parents, for Christmas present. He’s in Texas.

He has to see Jensen.

The plates drop from Jared’s hands as it hits him. Sherry shrieks in surprise, and he jumps a few steps away, comes back to look down on them and apologize profusely, nearly reaching for the plates, but he can’t, he has to leave. Has to run … run to Jensen. 

“Jared!” Sherry calls out as he escapes the room. “JT!”

His head pops back into view as he pulls a hooded sweatshirt on and pushes feet into sneakers. “I’m so sorry. Mama, I gotta leave.”

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta … I have to,” he huffs out while Megan and Jeff and Sherry watch in absolute confusion. One quick breath and then he smiles deliriously. “I have to see Jensen.”

“Jensen? What?” Sherry asks as she’s bending down and picking up the shattered remnants from Christmas breakfast, but it’s Megan’s response that jazzes him up.

She beams and claps excitedly. “Oh, my God, _yes!_ ”

“Yeah,” he grins right back.

“Shit, yes! I have to call Mackenzie,” Megan exclaims as she turns from the room.

“Wait! No!” he shouts. “No, don’t, I don’t want him to know … wait, maybe?” he asks with an awkward shrug. “I don’t know. You think he’d leave if he knows I’m coming? Would he tell her to tell you to tell me that I shouldn’t bother?”

Megan laughs, and Sherry’s hardly bothering to do anything but roll her eyes at the rush of his worry while she cleans up the mess he’s leaving behind. Jared watches them, anxious for suggestions, but they have none. Jeff, however, scoffs with a wave of his hand as he heads back into the kitchen. “God, Jared, just go already.”

“Okay, okay,” he chants as he leaves the room, only to pop back into view. “I don’t know if I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Go!” Megan yells anxiously.

“Yeah, right.” Then he’s back again, taking a steady breath and smiling so brightly he knows he’s ridiculous but he can’t stop it. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Jeff’s back and bent over the mess with his mother, warning, “You pull out Tiny Tim and I will kick your ass out the door.”

“Jeff,” Sherry says firmly and then looks up to Jared. “JT, just _go_ , honey.”

The rental hauls him straight up 35, humming along to the speed of tires on pavement, turning a four-and-half-hour drive into one that’s just over three and a half. It’s mid afternoon when he reaches the house, and he’s had so many scenarios course his brain, all too many possibilities to obsess over and he hasn’t settled on any single one that could make sense, or even how to start this conversation. But he’s here, on the porch, in front of the door, and just seconds from knocking. 

His fists tighten, pulsing and tensing fingers, and he can’t do this. But he has to. He can’t _not_ do this. He’s here, after living through the past, present, and future, and he needs to create his own life now. With Jensen.

Jared knocks then breathes so incredibly deep, feels it burn in his lungs, feels the turn of his stomach until the door finally opens and there stands Mackenzie. She eyes him, head to toe, and once more yet slower before she gives him a tiny smirk. “Hey,” he says awkwardly with a short wave. He’s met her, and the rest of the Ackleses, plenty of times, but it’s been so long, and they weren’t _quite_ like a second family, just a welcoming group. He suddenly wonders if his presence is as welcome as he had anticipated.

“What’d you do? Wake up and drive straight from L.A.?” she asks with that same quirk of her mouth.

“San Antonio.”

Her eyes widen. “You drove all the way from San Antonio? I was just kiddin’.”

“I mean, I ate breakfast first. But yeah, I came from … ” And then he stops the conversation because this isn’t what he came here for. He has an agenda, and banter with Mackenzie is not on it. “Is he here? Jensen here?”

She watches Jared for a few long seconds, smiling carefully and nodding. “Yeah, he is.” Her head snakes around the door and she’s not talking all too loud, which tells Jared that Jensen’s _right there_. “Come here, yeah?” she says, moving from the door but smiling all the same. 

Jared steps up to the screen, and then takes a quick step back when Jensen appears. 

They stare for long moments, long quiet, stilted moments. Jared’s trying to smile, but Jensen’s not. He’s just looking right back, eyes going all around Jared’s face, over his shoulders, down to his toes and back again. “What’re you,” Jensen finally says, pausing with confusion. “What’re you doing here?”

He manages a meek smile as he steps closer to the screen. “I came to see you.”

Jensen looks beyond Jared to the SUV in the drive, looks around the porch and settles on Jared. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s …” Jared thinks for a second then honestly says, “No, nothing’s okay.”

Jensen moves to the screen, looking panicked. “What’s wrong? Your parents okay?”

“Yeah, no,” he waves off, moving closer. “They’re fine. It’s … it’s not the family. They’re all okay. It’s … It’s me,” Jared rambles with a hand at his stomach, trying to calm himself. 

Jensen tilts his head and he looks away. When he looks back, there’s something clouding his eyes, something forcing his mouth open to ask with trouble, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Jared shakes his head, tries to get himself into the moment, find the best way to say what needs to be said. Nothing makes sense right here, for Jensen’s presence, his worry, is affecting this much more than Jared had imagined could be possible. 

Jensen leans closer to the screen. “J? What’s wrong?”

It’s been years since he’s heard _J_. Far too many years since he’s heard Jensen say it.

And right there, he decides to just go for it, return to the rambly mess he was for so long, the one who couldn’t keep his trap shut or figure out the most politically correct thing to say in public, who didn’t say things like the perfect script and instead just poured emotion through every word he said. His eyes fall from Jensen’s face and instead watch his own hand rise to the screen, fingertips pressing into the crisscross pattern as he finally lets it go. 

“Years ago, you tried to tell me something, and I said no chick flick moments.” 

A quick glance up and Jensen’s watching intently, eyes bright and keeping with Jared’s.

“I don’t have any way to do this but chick flick, alright? So you can’t hassle me too hard.”

“I don’t …” he trails off, shaking his head.

“Just promise you won’t put this in a lock box to mock me for the rest of our lives.”

Jensen’s mouth quirks for a second but then he’s back to looking confused. “Alright, I promise.”

“I don’t even know the realities of it, but I had some crazy ass dreams last night and through them I realized way too many things about us” Jared’s palm flattens at the screen, pushes a bit, like he’s trying to touch Jensen. Even while he can’t, he welcomes the barrier, he feels comforted by something blocking them, allowing him to spill everything. “We were really great together. You were my best friend. The best person I’ve ever met and had in my life. And I fucked that up. I stopped calling. I expected you to pick up the slack, but you didn’t. I know you were just protecting yourself. And now, we’re both miserable. And it’s only gonna get worse.” 

Jared takes a deep breath, tries to ignore the fact that Jensen’s expression hasn’t changed one bit, and hopes that Jensen’s just keeping it all in until he’s done, like he isn’t still confused by Jared’s proclamation, like Jared’s not wrong about this. 

He goes on with a strong shake of his head and a big push in his voice. “I don’t want to grow any older and be more bitter and pathetic. I want you back. Want you in my life again. I _need_ you in my life. With me.”

His eyes are wider now, and he’s still for far too many seconds for Jared’s liking. 

Jared panics, stomach rolling, fingers and toes trembling. He feels the daggers of regret stabbing again, like he should’ve known better than to just show up here, expect Jensen to take his apology, his ramblings, after so many years of silence between them. 

Until Jensen’s hand is fumbling at the door handle, slowly pushing it open, and he’s stumbling over the doorjamb, out onto the porch. “Jared,” he practically whispers. “Are you kidding me?”

There was a time when Jensen saying that was out of complaint, anger, and Jared’s only known that from him. Here, he’s a little worried, a bit hesitant to reply, because Jensen’s voice is unsteady. But Jared’s nerves win out and he’s back to rambling. “I’m not. I’m really not. And I …. I want you. Like, I want _you_ in my life. I want to see you every day, and I need that. But I can take something else. I can deal if you’re not, if you’re not still in love with me. It’s fine. Really. I just want to know you again.”

Jensen’s eyebrows go high and he’s staring intently to Jared’s eyes. “If I’m not _still_ in love with you?”

Jared nods, moving past the worry of the slip, and just going on. “You are, aren’t you?”

He shakes his head, gives a funny chuckle, and looks down to the porch. Then he’s looking up with an odd smile, “You’re wearing your pajamas?”

Jared looks down at himself, feels pathetic, but Jensen’s smiling at him, not throwing him into his car to head back to San Antonio, so this might be just fine. Whether he gets Jensen how he wants him, he has Jensen right now, willing to work something out. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “I ran right out of my mama’s house.”

“Christmas breakfast,” Jensen nods with a smile.

Jared nods right back. “Yeah, and crashed some plates when I decided to come here.”

Jensen’s face stills and he’s shaking his head, taking a deep breath. His hand moves between them, stalls, and then goes higher, tugging at the edge of the pouch on Jared’s hooded sweatshirt. Even with the gesture, his eyebrows knit together and his mouth screws shut, and he’s confused as he looks up to Jared. “You knew I was in love with you this whole time?”

There’s a burst of heat in Jared’s chest, pushing down to his toes, pushing up and out his mouth with a short, happy chuckle. He takes a step forward, shaking his head down to Jensen. “No, I didn’t. It just suddenly made sense.”

“But … how?” he asks, awkward and not even forming the complete question.

Jared chuckles and shakes his head again. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, unconvinced.

But Jared’s not going to explain any further. He closes the space between them and softly smiles. “I’ll explain it later. But right now, I’m gonna kiss you. That okay?”

Jensen snorts, both hands holding the sweatshirt, fingers curling into the front pocket. He doesn’t say anything, just lifts his chin, goes to Jared’s mouth as Jared’s hands come up to hold his face, carefully, slowly, moving across his cheeks with fingers skating over his ears and then his hair. It’s a soft press of lips, gentle push to widen as Jared’s tongue slips through, licks Jensen’s, mouths opening wider to get more. Jensen tugs on the pocket to bring Jared closer, and then they’re chest to chest, arms winding around to get tighter while the kiss continues on, gets heady, but not too much, because this is an emotional exploration for Jared, and he just wants to be here, doesn’t want to push too much, wants to take what he can have right here. 

And it’s Jensen, moving with him, kissing him right back, sharing the same breath and space and momentum of this _thing_ they’re creating. 

When they stop, when they pull back, Jared rests his forehead to Jensen’s, closes his eyes and breathes deep. His hands hold Jensen’s face again, and he dips down for another gentle kiss then says, “This is like the best payoff for cross country driving.”

Jensen chuckles, moving on to a laugh, and Jared can’t help the smile he gets just seeing it, hearing it. Jensen laughing and smiling before him. “Your mama’s gonna kick your ass for skippin’ Christmas.”

“Yeah. But Megan’s pretty happy.”

Jensen moves back with a smirk and looks at the house for a second. Then beyond Jared and he groans, dropping his head to Jared’s shoulder. “Looks like both girls won the lottery.”

Jared looks over his shoulder to Mackenzie not-so-subtly watching them in the window. She gives a short wave and smile then moves away, curtain swinging in her wake. He remembers Christmas present, of Jensen and Mackenzie on the porch, telling Jensen to never settle, that he should try to talk to Jared. In a roundabout way, Jared knows he owes Mackenzie for this moment, for convincing him it was right. “Hey,” he smiles, pressing back into Jensen’s temple. “She just cares.”

“Little too much sometimes,” Jensen grumbles, but he’s smiling back, too.

Jared nudges again. “Don’t mess with her. She’s done a good job as a sister.”

Jensen eyes him, mouth twitching around a closed smile, and Jared knows that’s the look he gets when he wants to ask more, but won’t. Instead, Jensen takes a deep breath and steps back. “You wanna come inside?”

He bites his bottom lip and chances a quick look at the door, and then he’s biting into a grin. “Yeah, I do.” Jensen nods, smiling strong and sure as he turns to the door, hand firm with one of Jared’s. But then Jared tugs him back and takes a deep breath. “Just … before we go in.”

“What?”

Jared takes a smooth breath, easing his heart from pounding too hard, and then he softly says, “I love you.”

One corner of Jensen’s mouth tips up high and his eyes flip between Jared’s. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods confidently. 

Jensen nods, still trying to keep his smile inside, but failing. Which makes Jared smile wider, and, in turn, makes Jensen finally break open with a full grin. “Awesome,” he nods on a loud exhale. 

As Jensen turns to the house again, Jared’s head tilts and he pulls on Jensen’s hand. “Wait, a minute.”

“What?”

His head tilts further and he eyes Jensen. “I say _I love you_ , and you say _awesome_.”

A few seconds pass as Jensen thinks it over, and then he’s smirking and moving back to the door. “Yeah, I did. Come on. I’m starvin’.”

Jared keeps arguing, but allows Jensen drag him inside. “No, c’mon, man. I drove four and a half hours to get here. To tell you I love you and you say _awesome_.”

Jensen is disbelieving when he says, “Oh, there is no way you took the full four and a half. You don’t ever drive the limit.”

“Fine. It was three and a half. But _still_.”

Jensen turns on him, stops him in the foyer and raises one single eyebrow. It’s startling, but it’s also all too familiar. Jensen looking nonplussed, so long-suffering when dealing with Jared, but there’s a tiny smile lurking just below the surface. One Jared always saw, but he never knew the reason for its existence. 

Now … he does. It’s because Jensen loves him, and no matter how many times he’s had to deal with Jared’s antics, he’s loved dealing with _Jared_. Period. 

“Fine,” Jensen sighs, still trying to hide that smile, but now that Jared knows about it, it’s all too obvious. “We’ll try this again. Say it.”

Jared watches Jensen, takes it all in. The curl of his lips, the shine of his eyes, the smooth turn of his cheeks. He waits a few moments to preserve the moment and finally says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says easily, quickly, and goes on, “See? Not a big deal. You’re complaining over nothing.”

As Jensen moves away, Jared laughs, pulling him back in. “I hate you. So much.”

“My line,” Jensen smirks just before Jared kisses him. Between presses of lips and teasing tongues, Jensen murmurs, “Love you.”

“Thank you,” Jared says with a smile against Jensen’s mouth.

Jensen grumbles just so, the way he always did with Jared, like he can’t believe he has to deal with him. “Happy now?”

“Yes,” and Jared _beams_.


End file.
